Another rung on the ladder
by FannyT
Summary: Severus Snape has four bitter enemies in the Gryffindor boys who call themselves the Marauders. At least, that is what he thinks, until one of them shows that they are not as unlike as they may believe. Rated for language.
1. Chapter One

Another rung on the ladder

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter One

_Know thine enemy..._

The gangly boy crashed to the ground, with the laughter of his two sworn enemies ringing in his ears. His feet were jerking with the Tarantula Hex and his breath was coming short gasps, strained from exertion. He had been goaded into anger once again, relentlessly taunted until he snapped and turned on them, willing to curse them into oblivion. But they were two skilled and brilliant students, and he was alone. Once again he'd been easily beaten, once again he'd been humiliated.

His tormentors seemed to get bored when he didn't get up again – one shrugged, yawning, and turned as if to walk away. He cursed then, cursed heavily and long, all the words he had heard his father throw at his cowering mum in the fits of his temper. Nothing happened – these were mundane curses, without an ounce of power, but with his wand in the hands of the boy who was still looking at him he could do nothing else.

"Oh, shut up," said the boy holding his wand. "If you're not nice I might just forget to take that hex off you. I can if you ask me real politely though, just because I like you so much."

The boy on the ground raised his head slightly. He swore again, glaring up at that hateful person with loathing. The other boy shrugged, and like his friend turned around.

"Suit yourself…"

"James!" It was another boy who spoke, walking briskly towards them with his brows furrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching a lesson. I was just done," answered James Potter casually, but one look at his friend's face was enough to know that he could not leave his victim there. "Alright, fine, I'll take the hex off. Consider yourself lucky, Snape."

Severus Snape didn't answer. He didn't rise either as Potter undid the hex, but kept lying on the ground, breathing heavily. The boy who had arrived later than the others walked forwards, looking worried, but then Severus pushed himself up by the elbows, staring angrily at him. "Don't touch me, wolf," he snarled.

The boy froze, and all concern left his face as he paled dramatically. "Fine," he said, turned on his heel and was gone.

"Moony, wait up!" shouted one of the other boys, Sirius Black, and started after him as Severus let his head fall back down to connect with the earth again. Potter stopped for a moment, made a noise of disgust and threw Severus's wand at his head before walking off after his friends. When he had gone Severus finally sat up, stretching his long legs out in front of him and rubbing at the ankles that were smarting from the forced dance. As he did so he noticed another boy, standing a bit further off and looking at him. It was him, the fourth one, always at the heels of his friends. Peter – Peter Pettigrew. He was looking straight at Severus, a strange expression on his face.

"Oy Wormtail! What are you waiting for?" shouted Potter, and Peter shook himself slightly. He looked at Severus one last time and then ran after the others.

And Severus still sat on the ground, head and feet aching. He thought about four boys, and one in particular. There had been something strange about Peter – the usual scared and nervous smile hadn't been there. Instead, he had looked at Severus as…

As what? An ally? A friend? Severus shook his head, dispelling it of stupid fancies.

"Weird little fuck," he said out loud, and wasn't sure himself if he meant it as an insult, or as a compliment.

……………………………………………….

And Fanny's back, with another Harry Potter fic – shamelessly Lupin-promoting, since I've always loved him, and Snape-centred because I adore him as well. Enjoy…


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

_Oh, the thrill of the chase as I soar through the air_

_With the Snitch up ahead and the wind in my hair_

_As I draw ever closer, the crowd gives a shout_

_But then comes a Bludger and I am knocked out._

– _Ingolfr the Iambic_

Severus Snape stood in the school grounds waiting for his teacher, his shoulders hunched and tense. He was holding a broomstick in his hand, looking at it as if was about to explode.

"Aw," smirked Black as he walked past, with his arm around a pretty girl from Ravenclaw, "is ickle Snapey going to try his hand at flying again? Thought you'd learnt from all the spectacular failures you've had… the sideways slide/bumping across Hagrid's pumpkin patch was simply fantastic… don't worry though, I'm sure you'll get off the ground one day." He laughed loudly, and the girl with him giggled.

"You don't have the right to be so cocky," said Severus casually, shifting the broomstick from one hand and back again experimentally and trying to look surer with it than he actually was. "Not when you've tried out for the Quidditch team for four years in a row and been denied each time. I bet it just _kills_ you to hear Potter complain about how he has nothing to do while you're at flying classes, to see him up there in the matches…" Black's face was growing steadily redder as he spoke, and he knew he had hit home. "You ever thought of asking for private lessons or were you too ashamed of that? Or didn't he want to help you, in case you became too good?"

"You watch yourself," snarled Black, letting go of the girl and reaching for his wand. Severus already had his out, ready for a duel, but at that moment the flying teacher came round the corner of the school and they both put the wands away guiltily.

"Hello, Mr Snape!" trilled the old man, waving his broomstick in the air. He had a World War One flying cap perched awkwardly on the top of his shock of white hair, and a long brown scarf tied around his neck. He was known to everyone as simply Whizzie. Presumably he'd had a real name sometime back in history, but the students sometimes suspected that he had forgotten it himself. "And Mr Black, and Miss Candela as well! But you two are not here for the extra lesson, I believe?"

"Nah, just talking about some homework," Black lied easily, and slung his arm around the girl again. She looked slightly disappointed over missing out on a good fight. "We were just about to leave. See you, Snape! Got off just in time, didn't you," he added in a mutter, passing close to Severus before walking back towards the school.

"Well, time for a little additional lesson, then?" grinned Whizzie, his face happy with the prospect of extra flying before him. (The man was a passionate flying nerd.) "Don't worry if it doesn't come all that easily to you – you will surely get the hang of it one of these days. For some it can take a little time, but that's nothing to be upset about! Now, did you practise like I told you last time? Imagining the wind, and the lightness? Like a bird, you have to think. _"I am a bird"_, say that to yourself every morning…"

"Yes, Whizzie," said Severus tiredly. "Shall we get on with it?"

"Oh yes." The old man blinked, twice, like he had forgotten what they were there for. Then he smiled. "Yes, of course, but we have to wait for someone else first. Ah, here he is now!" Whizzie waved to someone behind Severus, who turned and saw Peter walking hesitatingly across the grass. Whizzie turned around again as he approached, starting to conjure a set of floating balls in the air, shimmering like soap bubbles. Peter walked up and stood two paces away from Severus, watching him nervously.

"Hello," he said, with a weak grin. "You've got extra flying homework too?"

"Obviously," sneered Severus. Peter flushed.

"Well, yeah… I just… that's nice."

"Sorry?"

"Nice to have someone else to practise with for once, I mean," said Peter quickly, his face turning an even darker shade of red. "Usually it's just me and Whizzie. It's good to have someone else here."

"In case you have forgotten, we hate each other," said Severus icily, eyes fixed firmly on the bubbles Whizzie was placing at strategic points around the Quidditch pitch. Peter looked away.

"I don't," he said quietly. It took Severus a moment to realize what he had said, and even then it sounded so strange to him that he had to ask.

"What did you say?"

"Boys!" shouted Whizzie, clapping his hands together. "Mr Snape, Mr Pettigrew, if you please – come here so I can explain what I want you to do today."

And Peter ran forwards, leaving Severus to puzzle alone over what he had said.

…………………………………………………

"It went so well today!" said Peter excitedly, towelling his hair. They had been surprised by a sudden shower of rain, and had to break up the lesson a bit earlier than usual and retreat to the Quidditch changing rooms. But up until then it had indeed been very good. When they were two to help each other, Whizzie's instructions were easier to follow. "I haven't flown that well ever before!"

"You suck," Severus stated. "How come I've never had extra lessons with you before? You're even worse than I am." He spoke coldly, still confused about what Peter had said earlier, and the other boy looked hurt.

"I've had additional Charms at this time of the day," he muttered in reply. "I'm really bad at Charms."

"So why don't you ask Black to help you? He's pretty good at Charms." Severus sounded disinterested, but was in fact curious for the answer. In his House they helped out when someone had a problem. Didn't they do that in Gryffindor?

"Don't joke around," snorted Peter. "Sirius doesn't help out with anything. He'd just laugh at me if I asked. And I can't ask James – he isn't very good at Charms either, he's always asking Lily for help."

"That's just because he wants to get into her robes," said Severus with a sneer. Lily Evans was a pretty girl, good at Charms and kind-hearted in her own way, but she could be a bit of dim-wit about things and Severus despised her for always butting in. She did it because she felt sorry for him, because that was what one had to do – look out for those who were weaker. Couldn't she see that it made his shame even greater? He didn't want her false pity, her forced concern.

"I don't like them," said Peter in a small voice, and Severus came back down to earth again, staring at the Gryffindor with a slight frown.

"What? Who?"

"I know I'm really lucky to be allowed to be with them," Peter went on as if he hadn't heard him, and Severus realized that he was talking about his friends.He was staring out of the window, watching the rain run down the glass panes. "But James and Sirius, I don't know… they're just so… arrogant…"

Severus couldn't stop himself from nodding slightly in agreement. He could not stand the two of them. it wasn't so much their endless taunting, the hurt, the humiliation – it was the fact that they seemed to think they were completely justified in breaking him. For what? Because they didn't like each other.

"But there's not much else I can do, you know?" said Peter, looking at him, with something close to desperation in his eyes. He had no one else he could tell this to, did he… "I'm kind of scared of them, they're just so… perfect, in everything they do. They have the best grades, and they're so popular, and always funny and witty."

"Depends on what you call witty, I guess," said Severus sardonically, who had always felt that the two boys' "Come on, let's show the school Snape's underpants"-manner lacked a certain somethingin style.

"Yeah, but everyone thinks so! And I'm just scared…" Peter looked away again. "If I wasn't with them, who would I be with? I haven't got any other friends. I don't think I would make any, either. I can't seem to - not like them - you know... talk, and joke around, and just get to know people... and that's why I can't leave them. I can't be alone. And they're not _that_ bad." His voice was stronger now, reassuring himself. "I mean they do look out for me, and we have fun times. And Remus is really nice, to be fair. He's actually a good guy." He stopped again, and looked down at his bitten fingernails. "But although they can be nice too, James and Sirius… still… they make me feel… I don't know, so…"

"Worthless," said Severus and smiled, completely without mirth.

…………………………………………………

Hello everybody… very glad to see you taking an interest… and I will certainly try to update as frequently as possible (i.e. as often as I get hold of the family computer – this is harder than it sounds). I'm a bit cramped at the moment though, what with running around and trying to find a job… do you know how hard it is to find a job in Gothenburg, Sweden? No, of course you don't, sorry. Stupid question.

Well, I'm off to write a CV now… haven't ever done that before, should be interesting. Ciao!

**Queen of Stardust:** Hey, vad häftigt! Du var min första review och du är svensk! Snacka om sammanträffande:) Jag är väldigt förtjust i Snape också, och jag tycker Peter är en person som borde utforskas mer – därför skrev jag det här. ;) Ha det toppen till nästa gång!

**Patricia de Lioncourt:** Thank you! I was a bit uncertain because the first chapter was so short… glad you liked it anyway.

**Carlie Black:** Yeah, I know the first chapter was ridiculously short. :) It was just a sort of prologue, before the storyline actually started. The rest of the chapters will be about this length – a bit longer, at least. ;)

**Selene182:** Aren't they adorable? I just love that sarcastic Potions teacher to bits… I cried so much when some of his childhood memories were shown in the fifth book…

**Empress Andromeda:** We just read about the Andromeda galaxy in my General Science class. What a coincidence. :) Anyway, I think Peter is an interesting character and I'm surprised because I haven't actually found any fanfics with him. When I published this fic I was going to put him as a secondary character, _and he wasn't even on the list of characters_. Isn't that weird?


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

_Imagine if you'd never seen colours, and someone showed you a rainbow._

_Imagine if you'd spent your life alone, and someone showed you what friendship means. _

"Oy Wormtail! Where are you going?"

Peter looked back sharply at Sirius as he called out, then grinned nervously and gestured towards his flying robes. James, who had been lying in front of the fire and reading a book on transfiguration, shot up and looked at him.

"Don't tell me you have an extra flying lesson _again_!" he asked incredulously. "It has to be the… what, the fifth? In just two weeks! Man, are you getting _worse_, or why the hell do you have so many additional lessons?"

"Nah," grinned Peter, picking at his nails. "It's just that I've been having lots of free time lately, and I'm using it to take all these additional lessons so I'll get better and be done with the blasted subject earlier."

"Smart," nodded Sirius, and James seemed to be satisfied as well.

"Right. See you later, then."

"And say hello to Whizzie for me." That was Remus, looking up at him over the rim of his Astronomy chart. He gazed searchingly at Peter for a moment or two, but the looked back down again, smiling. "Old man seems to be getting even more airy-fairy lately."

"So true!" barked Sirius. "You should have heard him the last lesson, Prongs – _be like the kite that strives to get high into the air, strives to get away from the string that binds it to this earthly world and yearns for its long-sought freedom_… Merlin, he's worse than Madam Lunar."

"Don't know why he bothers with all that crap anyway," said James lazily, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again. "I mean, I just get on my broom and tell it where to go, I don't hang around thinking all this mysticism shit about being a bird and stuff."

Peter left then. It was no secret that Sirius envied his friend's flying prowess, and he easily blew his top when he was reminded of it. If James kept talking, Sirius would not be happy. And when Sirius was unhappy, he all too often took it out on his smallest friend. This was something Peter did not want to be caught up in, yet again. He'd be late. So he exited the portrait hole before Sirius had time to delay him, walked briskly down the corridor, ducked into an alcove briefly to avoid Peeves – who he was dead scared of – hurried out into the ground and towards the Quidditch changing rooms. Then he walked past them, into a small clump of trees that stood separately from the Forbidden Forest.

"Hi," he said, sliding James's Invisibility Cloak (which he'd temporarily stole– borrowed) off his backpack that was crammed with books. "Sorry if I'm a bit late, had to hide from Peeves while he tattooed all the suits of armour."

Severus looked up from his Charms book, and smiled. "That's quite alright," he said. "I've just been reading up on that Charm you said you had problems with. I think I can see what you're doing wrong."

"Oh, really?" Peter dropped to his knees, looking excited. "I even asked Remus on that one and he couldn't help."

"Nah… it's not easy to see where you actually went wrong. But here, you said Potter ended up looking like a chicken when you tried it in class? Well personally, I would have said that was a very effective Charm…"

Peter laughed. "Yeah, that's what happened," he confirmed. "James wouldn't talk to me for a week. Of course, he _couldn't_ talk for a week, so it wasn't necessarily only because he was mad at me."

"Ah, the joy…" sighed Severus. "A whole week without his voice jarring my ears… are you sure you want me to teach you the right way to do the Charm? Because I wouldn't mind if you got it wrong again…"

"Kind of agree with you, but I have a test coming up," grinned Peter. As always, the nervousness and eager to please clashed with the true happy feelings, and the smile flickered like a Muggle light bulb improperly screwed into its socket. "And Flitwick's great, but he's a right bastard when it comes to marking tests."

"You don't have to tell me." Severus shuddered. "So, anyway, I think the problem lies in the first word, Paletta. The whole charm is Paletta Luminae, and is supposed to enhance colours. I can't think why he wanted you to use that on your class mates, by the way."

Peter blushed.

"I was actually aiming for the painting behind James," he muttered.

"Were you really?"

"Yes! OK," he added as Severus raised his eyebrows, "so I was a little less careful than I could have been. I would have liked to see what colours the charm would enhance on James."

"Ugh, don't talk about it!" Severus exclaimed, making the other boy grin again. "Any blacker and that hair would be unbearable! Even as it is we're swamped with starry-eyed nonsense about inky-coloured locks as dark as midnight… and I have to say I know quite a lot of things that are prettier than ink… but let's get back to the Charm. I think your problem is simply bad pronounciation. Here, I'll show you…" He took a drawing of a young boy from his pocket. It was a quick sketch but the face was easy to recognize as that of a Slytherin Second Year.

"Little bugger's called Potts," Severus explained, noticing Peter's curiousity. "A distant cousin of mine – asked him to stand for a portrait and he was dead chuffed. Come on, I want you to try and cast the Charm again, on this drawing."

"O – OK." Peter glanced nervously at him and then raised his wand. The drawing yawned, looking balefully at him and mouthing something quite offensive about Gryffindors. "P-pouletta Luminae!"

The drawing squawked loudly and for a moment the parchment turned yellow as feathers flew everywhere. When they settled there was a ruffled and angry-looking chicken in place of the Slytherin boy, somehow managing to convey that if it had not been inconvenienced by way of beak, the earlier comment about Gryffindors would just have been considerably extended.

"Yeah, that what I thought," nodded Severus. He took the drawing, muttered a Counter-Charm – he'd asked in the sickbay what they had used to get Potter back to normal – and handed it back to Peter. "You pronounce the first word completely wrong. It's not _Pou_-letta, it's _Pa_-letta. Paletta – got it?"

"_Pa_-letta," said Peter obediently.

"OK, good." Severus pointed at the parchment. "Try it again, and don't stutter."

The drawing looked apprehensively at Peter as he raised his wand again, and said the incantation: "Paletta Luminae!"

"Good," said Severus appreciatively, looking at the sketch which was now glowing with colours. "That's a very nice one – you're good at it, once you get your mouth around the words. He has sandy hair just that colour. You brought it out really well."

"Wow," said Peter and stared in amazement at the parchment (where Potts-the-drawing was now looking at his shirt and nodding to himself). "I didn't know this charm could do that."

"Well, it's mostly used for portrait repairs – when they're getting old and need colour renewing – but it can be used to bring out colour in a black and white picture too. I use it on the Daily Prophet 'cause I like looking at the photos in colour better." Severus grinned.

"That's cool." Peter was still looking at the drawing in admiration. Possibly this was the first time a charm had worked that well for him. "I think I know why I got it wrong now – practised with Seanally, him from somewhere up the country. He has a funny accent."

"Don't practise with him again," said Severus firmly. "Hey, I was wondering… about that Transfiguration assignment we just got – couldn't understand a word she told us about those new Switching Spells. Could you go through it with me?"

"Oh, they're simple, really." Peter beamed, pleased to be able to help. "You see, the thing about them is…"

…and so passed another afternoon, happier than many days.

…………………………………………………

"So when do we get to meet her?"

"What? Ah!" Peter fumbled with his plate and dropped it upside down, right onto the white linen table cloth. He quickly searched for his wand, feeling his face heating up dramatically as James and Sirius laughed, but Remus had already turned the plate the right way up again and cleaned up the mess with a quick spell. "Uh, thanks…"

"No problem," said Remus and kept eating as if nothing had happened, an open _Hogwarts: A History_ on the table beside him. Peter breathed out in a sigh, hoping that the accident would have been enough to distract Sirius from the question he had just asked.

No such luck, however.

"That girl you've been meeting with, of course!" grinned Sirius, leaning forward to cuff him over the head. "You've hardly been around at all for the last couple of weeks! And face it, man – that "flying lessons" excuse was rather shallow. Worked for two weeks or so, but you can't hide from us! So come on, spill – what's she like? Is she pretty? What House? Smart? Probably not, since she chose you, but… ow! Moony, what the fuck?" He grasped at his shin, glaring at his friend in irritation.

"Oh," said Remus calmly, looking up from his book with a surprised expression. "Sorry, Padfoot."

"What's with that innocent sorry? You kicked me on purpose, you dick!"

"Sorry."

"Don't give me your sorrys!"

"Sorry."

"Aaaaaah! Shut up!"

James was laughing, poking at Sirius to make him yet madder. Remus was smiling, with just a hint of smugness. And Peter let out the breath he'd been holding, feeling very relieved and thankful that Sirius had been distracted. At the same time he felt like imitating Remus's behaviour and kick the insensitive bastard where it really hurt – "Probably not, since she chose you", what kind of thing was that to say to a friend? If you could even consider them to be friends, that was. Peter did everything to gain their favour, but did he ever get anything in return?

"Oy Prongs, it's Snapey," said Sirius suddenly, stopping his abuse of Remus. James turned in his seat and smiled broadly.

"HEY!" he called, in a voice that carried far across the Great Hall. "Snapey! Why so late? You shouldn't miss dinner, you know. If you get any more scrawny Hagrid will mistake you for one of his Halloween decorations!" Many people laughed at this, remembering the strange dolls Hagrid had hung up the year before – thin, wraithlike figures with rags for clothes and stitches across their necks and mouths. Severus didn't stop, and gave no sign that he'd even heard the Gryffindor's jibe.

"You been working on the Transfiguration assignment or something?" James continued. Half the Hall was now watching the exchange, anticipating a good fight. "That's _good_, Snapey! Attach your short-comings head on, that's the best approach. You might even scrape a D if you keep at it with those Switching Spells!"

Severus halted for a second, his shoulders tense. Peter could imagine how confused he would be feeling, how he would wonder why James knew about his aversion to Transfiguration in particular. He sank lower in his chair, praying that Severus would not glance his way. But the scrawny boy kept walking calmly towards the Slytherin table, shrugging at his housemates who laughed. James bristled.

"Hey Snapey!" he called. "You're being rude, you know – aren't you even going to answer me? It's not nice to turn your back onto people, didn't your mother teach you that? Well alright, guess a mother like that couldn't teach you much, could she…"

There was a crash. Severus had just been about to sit down when James called out, and it seemed he had fallen over, overturning the bench as he did so. Several other students tottered and fell with it, except for a few who were quick enough to get to their feet. Plates crashed to the floor, students lay in messy heaps beside the table and the confusion was enormous. The entire Hall roared with laughter.

Two Slytherin boys took hold of Severus, lifting him to his feet, but Peter knew they were not only helping him up. They kept the grip on Severus as he sat down again, restraining him from rushing straight across the Hall. And Peter knew why, too. He knew why the remark had stung Severus so, knew how it reminded him of his mother, helpless in a corner while his father hit her face again and again, screaming names at her – _Whore! Bitch! Leg-spreading fucking tramp!_ He knew why Severus was shaking with fury as he reached out for a plate and angrily shrugged the two boys' hands off. He knew why every insult that James threw out hit its mark.

Peter knew, because he had told James what to say.

…………………………………………………

_I hate them I hate them I hate them more than anything in the world…_ Severus chanted his mantra to himself, over and over until his head spun. They touched at every sore spot he had, the two Gryffindors, picked at the scars he was desperate to forget, to leave alone until they healed completely. Instead they were torn open again, time after time. Why? How could they always know what would hurt him the most? These past few weeks they sometimes seemed like they read his mind, laughing and picking a random memory, a weak spot, to torment him with for the day.

And Peter did nothing. He was so weak, so scared of them, would never dare to defy the stronger boys. To stand up and say "No".

…Lupin had done so. Several times, he'd stopped Potter and Black as they went at Severus with taunts and hexes, breaking both his spirit and his body. And then Severus had pushed him away, throwing words in his face to hurt him. Wolf. Half-human. Monster. He didn't want the help of a person so strong in himself – it was not help to an equal, it was pity. Severus could not take pity. That broke him more than anything else.

He wanted the friendship of someone who was himself weak. Someone who did not pity him because they had to, but felt his shame because they knew it too. Someone who was like him. Someone like Peter.

But what Severus didn't know was that Peter wanted the opposite. He wanted someone strong to be his friend, to lift him up to breathe the air of higher places. He did not believe in his own power, but wanted the help of someone else's. And to get that help, he would do anything.

…………………………………………………

_References:_ About Hagrid's Halloween dolls - think "The Nightmare Before Christmas".

**Patricia de Lioncourt:** Well, I don't imagine either of them as knowing the Dark Lord yet. As for the reason Peter wants this friendship with Severus… what, you don't think he merely likes him? Well, guess you're right. :)

**Carlie Black:** I've been wondering about that myself, too. I think I've decided now: they're in their fifth year. (Just hope I don't contradict this anywhere… I was a bit confused when I wrote this.)

**Under-the-Moonlight:** Glad to hear you like it! I don't think you're alone in hating Peter… I, at least, am not all that fond of him either, but lately (sometime after I realized just how big prats Sirius and James seemed to be in their youth) I've been having this urge to examine him closer.

I know it's strange. :)

**glenlightarrow:** Thank you… nice to see you again.:)


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

_Two doors and two guards. One door leads to happiness and one to hell. One guard can only speak the truth and one can only lie. What should you ask of the guards to decide which door to choose?_

"Oh!" Peter exclaimed, looking with pleasure down at his rat as it opened its mouth to squeak but no sound came out. "Finally I'm getting the hang of it!"

"It's all the wand movement," said Severus lazily, restoring the rat's voice again. "Your rat's kind of cute, by the way."

"Isn't she?" Peter beamed. "And she's really intelligent, too! Does all kinds of cool things, just yesterday she told me about how she…"

"Told you?" Severus frowned. Peter flushed, fidgeting nervously with his wand.

"Oh, not really, of course," he said quickly. "Anyway, I really like rats – always did. They don't live for long though." He looked regretfully down at his pet that was now cleaning herself, looking confused about all the Charms she had been subjected to that afternoon (all more or less successful). "I've had Tiny for just over a year. The last one I'd had since I was eleven, I was so sad when he died."

"Know how you feel. My cat died a couple of weeks ago, too," said Severus, remembering an old, grey creature that had simply gone to sleep one night and never woken up the next morning. Way to go, really…

"That's so sad!" Peter looked as if he was on the verge of crying, and Severus sat back in alarm.

"It's OK," he said quickly. "I wasn't very fond of him anyway. Bugger had been with me a long time, that was all." And he was the only thing Severus had brought with him when he left home. When he decided that whatever happened next, he'd be on his own and he'd manage. He had walked out of his house on the day he was to start Hogwarts, and he hadn't been back since. He stayed with a Housemate or with some obscure relative during the summer, at school the rest of the year. In just a year or two he would be able to stand completely on his own legs. He couldn't wait.

"Oh. OK. Hey Sev…" said Peter and he started again.

"What did you call me?"

Peter coloured. "Sev," he repeated reluctantly. "Just 'cos, you know, Severus is pretty long and all…"

"And it's a bloody stupid name," Severus filled in with a snort. "My last name isn't exactly great, either. I always hated my name – got me lots of oh-so-funny nicknames back in primary school."

"Like Snapey, you mean?"

"Snapey is _nice_ compared to the things I was called." Severus smiled sardonically. "Severus _Snake_ wasn't all that bad and I even got used to "ooh, you're so _severe_", but there was this really clever bugger who used to call me…" He stopped and flushed, and then muttered, "Snivellus. 'Cause I had a tendency to be a bit wet-nosed. Never really got over that one."

"Isn't it strange how much there is to tease a person about?" said Peter, almost dreamily. He was looking off into the distance, holding little Tiny in his cupped hands. "If you don't like a person, you can always find a reason to go at him. His hair," (Severus pulled self-consciously at his own, permanently greasy locks, then realized that Peter wasn't talking about him specifically) "his skin colour, his way of speaking, his name…" Peter looked down at his bitten fingernails. "His bad habits. His size. There are a million things that are so easy to point at, laugh at… I guess one of the reasons I feel so threatened by James and Sirius is that they, unlike the rest of us, don't really seem to have anything like that."

"Of course they do," Severus countered. "I can count some up for you if you want… alright, Black first. He has a name that's just as stupid as my own – what's with our parents' generation anyway? You'd think they picked our names out of a dictionary… – at least once a week he falls over from weighing on his chair too much and he laughs like a _dog_, for crying out loud." Peter winced nervously at the last part, but Severus didn't notice. "Potter has a nose that's at least one size too large for him (alright, I probably shouldn't say anything, but still), he wears _really _ugly glasses, his hair looks like someone went over it with a vacuum cleaner in four different directions and he moons so much over Evans that even the Hufflepuff First Years know he wants her." He sneered and then went on, "The thing about them is, no one _cares_ about those things. Because they have their faithful flock of sheep – sorry, I mean friends and admirers… slip of the tongue… – who would turn right onto anyone who said anything bad about them. That's why no one makes fun of them. If you want to be left alone," he finished dryly, "just get yourself lots of fans. Then you'll have no problems."

"It's not fair," muttered Peter.

"Life's not fair. Get used to it. Speaking of which…" Severus grinned. "If we're talking fair here, your new name is Pet."

"Pet!" Peter exclaimed, with indignation. "Where do you think I come from, the Magical Menagerie?"

"Pet is short for Peter, like Sev is for Severus," smirked Severus, and ducked a blow. He liked seeing Peter angry – it proved he was still alive. When he walked with his Gryffindor friends, he never showed anything but a desperate eagerness to please, but Severus had seen him sad, delighted, angry… seen the real Peter. "Fair's fair, isn't it? Alright, I was just kidding," he added as the other boy grouched. "Peter will do fine for me. You don't really have any nicknames, do you? No wait, what is it the Two Morons always call you… Wormtail? Why Wormtail?" He frowned in confusion. Peter grinned nervously, casting around for an explanation, but then Severus exclaimed, "Oh, I've got it! The rats, right?"

Peter just about fainted.

"Because you like rats so much, right?" Severus clarified, looking puzzled at the sudden heart attack imitation.

"Exactly," said Peter weakly.

"So anyway," Severus continued, noticing Peter's discomfort but not thinking it very important, "what are you doing this weekend? If you could get away from your funny friends I was thinking we could do something fun, go to Hogsmeade or something. They have a beginner's course in flying theory at the Three Broomsticks, and I mean flying is something we _really_ can't learn from each other since we both suck. It could be fun to go there together. I haven't been in Hogsmeade for a while."

"Ah, sorry…" Peter bit his lip in regret. "This weekend's bad. Full moon, you know… we usually stay with Remus this time of the month, try to cheer him up a bit."

"OK." Severus shrugged. "Another time, maybe."

"It was nice of you to ask… sorry…"

"It's fine!" Severus laughed. "You have to stop feeling so guilty all the time. I understand you have to be with Lupin. Poor guy, really." He shook his head. "He's pretty OK, after all. I think I'd actually like him if he hung out with other people."

"Gee, thanks."

"I didn't mean you!" grinned Severus. "You know I didn't."

And Peter did know. And he congratulated himself on becoming such good friends with Severus – it had been much easier than he had expected. But at the same time, he felt something small and dark twist inside him.

He didn't recognize it, but it was guilt.

…………………………………………………

Peter was torn in two. He felt as if there were two people inside him, two who mostly worked together but who sometimes disagreed. This was one of those times, and what he had to know was which would lead him to happiness.

He had found a friend, in a place he would never have dreamt of looking. It was not what he had expected when he set out to make Severus Snape his friend. He felt happy; his one self was thinking that the world did not get better than this, when you had someone to share your thoughts and your dreams with. But his other self was telling him to shut his heart, to be ruthless if he wanted to survive. Nobody can make it alone, it was telling him. Two people who both are nobodies can't make it either – if anything, that is harder. To live in the dog eats dog world that was the school you needed power. And if you had no power of your own, you borrowed off others. Others who were strong. Others like James, and Sirius.

Severus was a person twin to himself. He knew the agony of being alone and humiliated by those stronger. With him, Peter felt a calm he did not anywhere else. They were alike and equal, and Peter would have to look far to find another friend like him.

But Peter despised his own weakness more than anything else. If Severus was twin to that, too… it did not matter how good a friend he was, if he couldn't help Peter to reach higher.

…………………………………………………


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

_Et tu, Brute._

Severus was reading. Peter had lent him a good book to understand Bowtruckles – Care of Magical Creatures was another area Severus was not at home in. he could deal with animals well enough once they were dead and you were allowed to cut them up and have a poke around inside, but he'd never understood all of this taking care business. He would ditch they subject if he didn't need it to make a full education, but unfortunately he disliked all the other subjects on offer even more. He didn't want to study Divination, he had no interest in Muggle Studies and Arithmancy bored him to the death. So he had no other choice than to keep traipsing down into the school grounds to have lessons with Professor Kettleburn, a very enthusiastic teacher who'd begun teaching just as Severus started at Hogwarts. He had rumours about the last Care of Magical Creatures teacher having been sent off in a box (a very _small_ box), and Professor Kettleburn being accepted as his replacement only because he'd been known to illegally duel with Chimaeras. These stories did nothing to increase Severus's love for the subject.

Oh well. He and Peter had set a date for their Hogsmeade visit now, at least – they would go to the second Flying for Beginners lesson together, and try to actually learn something. (Their flying was still far from good, or even acceptable. Nowadays they at least got off the ground at – practically – every try, but they were no birds no matter how much Whizzie tried to tell them the opposite.) Not many people hung out at the Three Broomsticks, the old and very cranky waitress scaring most of the younger generation away, so hopefully they wouldn't be seen by anyone from the school. Friendships between Gryffindors and Slytherins were not impossible, but they were rare and Peter would be mercilessly teased, not to say terrorized, by his so called friends. Would he think it was worth it though, Severus wondered? He would have, if he was in the same position. He hadn't ever had a friend like Peter before.

Right then, right there, everything was perfect. Severus was happy with his life. Happy, until a hated shadow fell over his book and Potter leaned forward across the library table.

"Hello," he said, smirking. "What are you reading? How to become a likeable person, five easy steps? I hope there's a sequel, 'cause one book isn't going to get you far, I'm afraid."

Severus jerked, but did not say anything. He would not let Potter goad him into yet another argument. He would not let himself be pushed over the edge once again. He would remain calm, practising that self control he admired in Lupin, radiating that contempt he felt in Potter, aloof with that arrogance he saw in Black.

You could learn by watching your enemies, as well.

"What's the matter?" Potter's smirk grew wider, gloating. "Cat got your tongue, _Snivellus_?"

For a moment Severus didn't react, but then his ears told him what had just happened. Betrayal.

He looked down at the book in front of him – the book with _P.Pettigrew_ written on the inside of the cover in a painstakingly neat hand – and snatched his hands away from it as if it had burned him. He sat for a second in silence… and then the rage filled him, not hot but icy cold, and he gripped the book in both hands and threw it as hard as he could into the nearest wall, watching the back break with what would have been satisfaction if he hadn't been sick with anger.

"Oops," said Potter.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" said Black casually, emerging from behind a book case. "Being so _cruelly_ betrayed by your dear, dear friend. Tell me, Snivellus…" His eyes narrowed. "Were you always such a twisted bastard or is Peter your first love? Well of course, it does explain a few things, doesn't it? Always wondered why you help out with the Quidditch team, for example… Peter was just too small and cute to keep your hands off, is that it? Heard you asked him out to a little _date_ in Hogsmeade, isn't that sweet…"

Severus never remembered what curse or hex he hit Black with, but but exactly six seconds later the Gryffindor boy was lying on the floor. Later Severus learned that he had sustained a heavy concussion and had to stay in sickbay for several days. The thought gave him no guilt, but no pleasure either.

"Just because you don't know the meaning of being simply friends," he said quietly, looking down at Black's still form, "it doesn't mean the rest are of are just as ignorant." The accusation made him even angrier – was friendship something so strange? Did they have to read into it, see lust or love? Couldn't they understand that two people could just enjoy being together, without wanting more than to know that there was someone who would listen when they spoke?

He heard the gasp and saw Potter's movement in the corner of his eye, and had just enough time to draw a deep breath before he was slammed up against the wall with a Choker Spell. The Gryffindor boy had his wand up against him, shaking with fury.

"I knew you were a sad fuck," he spat, "but I didn't think even you would attack without the slightest warning. He didn't even have his wand! Curses are too bloody good for you, you bastard!"

Severus did not even have the energy to reflect over this wonderful sentiment from the boy who had thrown hexes at his back countless times. And besides, he didn't care anymore. He struggled to keep air in his lungs for as long as possible, but could at last not withstand the Choker any longer. And just before he blacked out, he heard Potter's last words,

"And I don't ever want to see you near Peter again, you disgusting fucking snake."

_Funny_, thought Severus vaguely, _finally something me and Potter agree on._

Then all was darkness.

…………………………………………………

"I had to," said Peter. His face was calm, and his smile was not the half nervous, half delighted one Severus had come to know over the weeks. It was a distant smile, as if the real Peter was not there at all. Severus could fool himself and say that it was so, but that would be a lie. This _was_ the real Peter. The one he had gotten to know was the false one.

"I have to get out of my life as it is now," Peter continued. "No matter what it takes."

"You are a fool." Severus shook his head. "If you can't see that your using me only gives you glory for a short while, then you are really much less intelligent than I gave you credit for."

"Makes you the fool, doesn't it?" Peter shrugged. "Such a bad judge of character… If you want to know, glory for a short while is all I ask for. It gives me time to rise a little higher, climb one laborious step. It's a short time now, when they listen to what I have to tell them, but that's all I need. Then I find something new."

"I wouldn't have figured you as the planning mastermind." Severus looked at the boy he had thought of as a friend. His face was still, like a mask, his features handsome without their usual nervous tension. But the detached manner was unreal – so calm, it was as if he was an empty, beautifully made doll. And there was something else. Something in those calculating eyes was screaming.

"Something inside you is saying help me. Are you going to listen before it's too late?"

"Can I tell James you said that?" Peter smiled, mocking the melodrama. "No – best to save it up. By the way, Sev," Severus stiffened at the nickname he had so fondly been given, "I'm a bit surprised you didn't catch on faster. There were many times the clever James or ever funny Sirius said things to you they could not possibly have found out by themselves. Things they could only have heard of from me. And you never suspected?"

"You may not know the word, but if you look in the T section of the dictionary you'll find the word "trust"," said Severus bitterly. "Now I'm going to follow the advice of your _friend_," he spat the word out as if it tasted bad, "James Potter. He told me to stay the hell away from you, and for once I have nothing against listening to him." He threw his hands out in a surprised gesture. "Well, I guess he does care a little bit about you – you must be _so_ glad. How about that? As if it wasn't enough to have what I thought was finally a friend stab me in the back and then twist the knife around several times, I now find out that Potter is actually human, as well. This is not my week." He turned, and Peter laughed softly behind him.

"We had fun times. Thanks for everything."

"Shut up, fucking rat."

"That was not very witty. You can do better."

"I save my wit for those who deserve it," said Severus, and walked away.

…………………………………………………

Hi… sorry for the long break. I was on a skiing trip, only just got back this morning. And I'm really in a hurry – sorry – but thank you all reviewers! (I'd hug you, but the computer screen is in the way.)


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

_I know what I must do, and if I hesitate, it's only because I'm frightened. Not of my task in itself, but of what it might bring. _

The morning was sunny and warm, but Severus Snape's face was dark as he walked down the street from King's Cross. He was walking deep in memories, paying no heed to the people all around him except to here and there apply an elbow to an unwary stomach as he pushed his way through the crowds.

It had been a long time since he had thought of Peter now. For ten years he had taught at Hogwarts, ten years after the fall of Voldemort… and he had almost forgotten. But then Harry Potter had started at the school – Harry, who looked just like his father, moved just like his father, even laughed like his father… albeit with delight rather than malice. He had expected Harry to become popular, with a band of followers, the brightest of them all. But the boy didn't become a new James.

Snape had given much thought, over the years, as to what it was that made a star. He'd seen school classes come and go, and he'd watched them all closely. He had seen children who were beautiful, clever, funny, talented, kind… and he'd seen that to be the most admired, you had to have something else. Ruthlessness was one thing that helped, certainly, but what really made the difference was something he believed was called charisma. Something he had never had.

Harry Potter lacked it, as well. But he seemed happy, satisfied with his two close friends and his limited fame in the Gryffindor Tower. He shouldn't begrudge the boy this, Snape knew it.

And yet… every time he looked at Harry, he saw his father instead, the boy who had taken his friend from him. But it wasn't James's fault, was it? To please James, Peter had betrayed and made fun of Snape – but James hadn't asked for it. Snape had hated him with all of his heart only because the human mind needs someone to carry the blame, and he couldn't hate Peter. No matter how hard he tried.

_If I am to be fair_, he thought wryly, _I suppose I should hate the pecking order of schools, of society, for forcing a boy to send his friend to the wolves in order to secure his own survival. It shouldn't be like that, the game of popularity being one of life or death… _

His arm throbbed suddenly with pain, and he clutched at it desperately, gasping out for air. Around him the early workers walked on, too busy with their own lives to spare a thought for anyone else. And after a moment or two the pain passed again, as suddenly as it had come. Snape smiled mirthlessly as he slowly straightened up again.

_Should I hate Peter after all? He is the reason my mind aches with the threats of the Dark Lord…_

He had left Severus, and more importantly Snivellus, behind when he left school. He had left his past life behind and started anew, giving only the name Snape and hiding his weaknesses far beneath the surface where they wouldn't ever be found. To forget his school days forever, never letting it drag him down again – that was his goal. But he had met Peter again. When just enough time had passed for Snape to start wondering if the Peter that had betrayed him wasn't just a small part of the boy he had known back then, if the Peter he had come to like wasn't the _real_ Peter… then they had met again. Peter had talked about his new friend, with power enough to let even them have a share. And the Peter talking had had bitten fingernails but a smile that sometimes made him beautiful.

_This is the real Peter_, thought Severus Snape, and thought that he had found his friend again.

Snape smiled at his folly, back then when he had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. He had believed so deeply in that phantom, the figment of his imagination he called the real Peter, and he had gone with him to become a Death Eater. They stood next to each other as the mark burned into their flesh; they shared the pain and said the oaths together. But so quickly, it got out of hand. The eyes of Muggles wide with fear, children screaming and mothers begging for mercy. From warnings to cruelty to terror to murder. And Peter never stopped smiling.

The real Peter was not only a cold planner; he was not only a nervous boy with a happy smile. He was both, and they both strove for dominion.

But Snape couldn't hate Peter. He wouldn't know which one to hate, for a start. The one that craved love and respect so badly he'd do anything to achieve his goal – or the one that planned how to get it?

Snape stood quite still in the street, ignoring the jostling people all around him. He felt suddenly peaceful. The one they had called the Dark Lord, the one they had bowed before and sworn allegiance to, was back now. The murders would not stop at Muggles this time, but would go much further. And he of all people had the power to stop it, or at least to hinder.

_Severus… you know what you must do._

Snape smiled to himself as he began walking again. Before, Peter had come to him. But this time, Snape would come to Peter.

_THE END_

………………………………………………

Please please don't hate me for ending it here… (People always tell me I end my stories too early.) This was from the beginning meant to be a long one-shot, but I didn't like it like that. So I changed it a little and divided it into chapters, and thus Another rung on the ladder was born. And I felt very finished with it here.

I've wondered a lot about what Snape did after Voldemort returned. I think it's nothing as simple as joining him again and pretending to be a faithful follower all of a sudden – there's something more, I think, something only he can do. And maybe Pettigrew plays a part in that:)

Aaaanyway… you don't care about that. Hope you liked the story! I might return to Peter Pettigrew later (as I've mentioned before I'm rather curious about him), but I'm done with him for the moment.

Ach, I'm only writing dribble so I'll quit. See you around!

**Patricia de Lioncourt:** Thank you for your very faithful reviews:) …and in answer to your question which I didn't answer before: I have not seen the movie Labyrinth. Should I? Is it good? The quote thingie is a riddle I learnt when I was little – I just adapted it to English. Can you guess the answer?

**Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands:** What an intriguing name you have. Thank you for your reviews!

**elsiey:** As always it is lovely to hear from you again:)

**Goldenlioness4:** Yeah, isn't Wormtail interesting? Isn't he:)

**glenlightarrow:** Until next time!


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